


Goodbye

by chatoyance



Category: Jonny Quest
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:41:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatoyance/pseuds/chatoyance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Doctor, the boys need you more than they need me.”</p><p>Race could see Benton’s jaw clench, muscles tightening, and he pulled his hand away and glared at Race indignantly. “The boys aren’t the only ones who need you. We can all escape together; you don’t need to be a hero, Race. Think this through.”</p><p>“I already have.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I need there to be more fic.

“It’s me they want, Doctor. Maybe if I distract them, it’ll give you and the boys enough time to get to safety,” Race said, his voice hushed and his back to the doctor, fists clenched at his sides. He took a step forward but was stopped by a gentle hand on his forearm, and he turned very slightly toward the other man, peering at him out of the corner of his eye rather than face him fully.  

“I can’t let you do that, Race,” Benton said, voice faltering, and his shaking hand pulled at Race’s wrist subtly. Race finally turned to look at him, offered a half-hearted, crooked little smile and the shaking of Benton’s hand ceased, but his grip tightened.  

“Doctor, the boys need you more than they need me.”  

Race could see Benton’s jaw clench, muscles tightening, and he pulled his hand away and glared at Race indignantly. “The boys aren’t the only ones who need you. We can all escape together; you don’t need to be a hero, Race. Think this through.” 

 “I already have.” 

 Race had always imagined he would die for the Quest family. It wasn’t in him to die at a ripe old age, spinning yarns of his old adventuring days alongside the legendary Dr. Quest and his sons from a wheelchair in a pristine hospital room. He loved those boys, he even loved the darn dog and god, did he love Benton. If he had to die in order for them to live, then damn it, he was almost _glad_ to die.  

“Damn it, Race!” Benton hissed through clenched teeth, and Race almost laughed in spite of the situation. He could never take Benton seriously when he cursed – he always stumbled slightly over his words like he was trying to stop himself. Race felt Benton’s hand on his arm again, trailing down toward his wrist, holding it limply in his unsteady hand, fingers brushing over the vein there. “Please.” 

The barking of the dogs was rumbling steadily closer, and Race was vaguely aware that they were running out of time, “Go, I’ll catch up with you.” 

He was lying, and he could tell that Benton knew. _Heh, nothing gets past him._   

“Race... I can’t _live_ without you.” 

There was such desperation and gravity in the other man’s confession that it made Race’s expression finally fall, and he took one step closer toward Benton by his own nature. For a moment, he warred with himself, but finally gave in and lifted a hand to the side of Benton’s face, thumb brushing across the jutting cheekbone there. 

He offered a sad smile, “You can.”  

There was a gunshot somewhere to their left and Race jerked away from Benton immediately, growling through his clenched teeth, “Go _now_! The boys, Benton!” 

Race knew that would persuade him to leave, and there was a moment where he saw two desires battling in the doctor’s eyes, but ultimately his love for his sons won him over, and Benton ran in the other direction. The moment the white lab coat vanished in the underbrush; Race suddenly felt a terrible yearning for the doctor to come back, his throat constricting and his hands gripping the rock wall behind him, eyes squeezing shut.  His eyes snapped open again when he heard another shot, and he tore through the foliage in the opposite direction, whooping for the dogs to follow him instead. There was yelling and a scuffle behind him, and then he heard the barking of the dogs rolling toward him at an alarming pace. He prayed to whatever god was listening that Benton and the boys would make it safely to the boat, and stumbled into the darkness.  

 

\-- 

 

Benton scanned the beach for any sign of life, hoping to see a flash of red and a shock of white-blond hair amongst the leaves, but so far he hadn’t seen a thing.

They crouched behind the trees near the edge of the jungle, facing the boat, not daring to board it until Race caught up with them, and god, Benton hoped that Race would come to his senses and return to them. Jonny and Hadji were crouched to Benton’s right, clutching Bandit between them like a stuffed animal, and the dog had remained blessedly silent as they waited. Benton reached down and ran a hand through Jonny’s hair as a sort of silent comfort, and the boy smiled up at him tiredly.  

“Any sign of Race yet, dad?”  

Benton sighed deeply, “Not yet, Jonny...”  

“Do not worry, Doctor Quest. Race knows what he is doing. He will turn up soon.”  

“I hope you’re right, Hadji...” was all Benton could say, his voice trailing off into the night. He kept thinking back to that moment where Race had touched him. He could still feel Race’s thumb ghosting over his cheek; so different from the hand on his shoulder as he said goodnight, or the palm on his forearm to calm him when things got a little bit dicey. It wounded him to think that he might never feel that touch again, and he clenched his fist so tightly, his fingernails began to dig into his palm.  

He heard a muffled half-bark from beside him, and looked down to see Bandit squirming in Jonny’s arms, his tail wagging enthusiastically and ears perked up to their full height. He followed the dog’s gaze toward the jungle behind them, and rose to his feet, telling Jonny and Hadji to be cautious with a subtle hand gesture. Bandit let out a happy little canine squeal, panting gleefully, and in that moment, Benton knew who was coming toward them.  

“Fancy meeting you fellows here,” the jolly voice came from the darkness, followed by a dirt-caked red shirt and a welcoming smile, “Would you mind giving me a lift?”  

Benton sighed so deeply he thought he would pass out right there, smiling warmly, eyes crinkling at the corners, as the boys stood up to greet Race. Race ruffled Jonny’s hair and hugged both of the boys at the same time, turning to give Bandit a pat when he was finally released from their arms.  

He stood to his full height and took a step toward Benton warily, looking at him apologetically, one hand extended. Benton stood his ground for a moment, before crossing the distance between them in two large strides and throwing his arms around Race. His fingers clutched at the red shirt desperately as he buried his face in the crook of Race’s neck, his eyes shut firmly, and Race relaxed and brought his hands to Benton’s waist as he exhaled.  

“I thought you were going to be mad at me,” Race laughed.  

“I am, a little bit. But right now, I’m just happy to see you alive,” Benton sighed, pulling back and resting his hands on Race’s forearms.  

Race smiled roguishly, arms tightening around the doctor’s waist as Jonny and Hadji closed in around them in a big group hug, Bandit wagging his tail furiously, and he changed his mind.   

 

He wouldn’t mind dying at a ripe old age after all, surrounded by his family.


End file.
